The Ouroboros Prophecy

By J.A. Jaken

A vision drawn from the mind of a dying member of an Outrider clan draws Shai and Lorne back into the city of Nhil-Rhar, where they are pulled into a deadly conspiracy. Pathfinders are having dreams of destruction and chaos, criminal factions are battling openly in the streets, and a mysterious virus has been unleashed in the Agency's computers. On the fringes of it all lurks a dark figure that Shai can sense but not see, a figure that is neither pathfinder nor guide yet somehow—impossibly—more powerful than both. Time is running out, and if he doesn't solve the mystery of the Ouroboros Prophecy, not only his life but the lives of the Outriders and everyone in Nhil-Rhar will be forfeit.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.A. Jaken
• Release date: May 4, 2019
• ISBN: 9780986233050

J.A. Jaken

J.A. Jaken has been writing fictional stories and novels for more than ten years, most frequently in the fantasy and science fiction genres. She got her start in the profession writing slash fanfiction, where she has published numerous stories under the pen-name Rushlight. Over the years she has written short stories and novels in genres ranging from science fiction/fantasy to gothic horror to modern detective mysteries, most with at least a touch of m/m romance to them. She lives at home in the southwestern U.S. with her college-aged son, a cat, and the family Rottweiler. Outside of writing, her interests include studying foreign languages, practicing martial arts, riding horses, and collecting medieval weaponry.

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Disclaimer

This book is a work of fiction which contains explicit erotic content; it is intended for adult audiences only. Do not read this if it's not legal for you.

All the characters, locations and events herein are fictional. While elements of existing locations or historical characters or events may be used fictitiously, any resemblance to actual people, places or events is coincidental.

Chapter 1

Shai Luna made a low sound of frustration and jabbed repeatedly at the keyboard, the skin between his brows tightening. Despite his best efforts, the monitor screen in front of him remained stubbornly unresponsive.

Beating it up isn’t going to help. Lamia’s voice had a hint of amusement in it. She leaned over his shoulder, graceful fingers tapping a swift command into the keyboard. In seconds, the screen flickered and brought up the main program menu.

Shai rubbed a hand over his eyes and leaned back in his chair, stretching out his legs under the table to ease the stiffness in them. "I’m never going to get the hang of this, Lamia. I mean, come on. How many weeks have we been at this? There are six-year-olds who are better at this than I am."

You’re being too hard on yourself, Shai. As always, she was faultlessly patient. Whatever else she might be, she was an able teacher. The children here have been trained in these skills from a very young age. This is all new to you.

It was true, he had to admit. While he had been tutored on occasion by some of the mentors in the orphanage where he’d grown up, he had never been formally schooled. After he ran away from home at the age of twelve to make his own way on the streets, he had abandoned the idea of ever achieving anything resembling an education. That was one of the many things he found difficult to grasp about life here in the Outrider camp; education wasn’t a prize offered exclusively to the rich or the powerful. It was something that was offered to all children as a matter of course, as if learning were as natural a need as having food to eat or shelter to keep them warm.

In many ways, Shai knew his childhood of eking out a meager existence on the city’s streets had left an indelible imprint on him. His face was thin and framed with chin-length brown hair, with pale green eyes he had always thought of as unremarkable. He wasn’t particularly tall, and skinny from years of being undernourished in a society that prized strength and power above all else. He had become adept over the years at hiding in the shadows, sneaking into places where he wasn’t wanted, stealing food when he could and avoiding the city’s dangerous muggers and rape gangs.

His gaze drifted to the open doorway of the tent. The younger children were busy playing at recess outside, their strident laughter drifting on the air like something out of a dream. The sight of them made him smile wistfully, thinking about how different his own childhood had been. Seeing these children playing carelessly in the sunlight, looked after by loving guardians and free from most kinds of harm, filled him with a vague stirring of envy.

It still wasn’t something he’d gotten used to, living out of doors. He had spent his entire life inside the formidable walls of the city of Nhil-Rhar, which had been both parent and personal demon to him his entire life. Nhil-Rhar was controlled by a number of warring criminal factions, a fragmented government of tyrants and cartels that was all that remained of the city’s original Founders. Out here in the wild, Outriders like Lamia were free of the cartels’ influence—for the most part, anyway—although it meant they were forced to a nomadic existence in the barren wilderness that existed outside the city’s walls.

Of course, Shai had his own reasons for wanting to avoid the notice of the city’s cartels. He had known ever since he was very young that he was different; he could receive psychic impressions from people and objects around him, able to tell secrets about their past, their present...and occasionally about their future. That was a power the cartels would love to get their hands on and be able to control, which placed him at risk of becoming a pawn in their endless territorial wars with one another. He had learned the hard way that as long as he remained within their reach, he would never know what it was to be free of them.

I think that’s enough for today. Lamia stretched her arms out over her head, the joints in her spine popping. Her diminutive frame looked deceptively fragile in the sunlight that spilled in through the doorway. We’ve been at this for hours already. Go outside and take a break for a while.

Shai ducked his head, wondering if she had noticed his distraction watching the children outside. She probably had; Lamia wasn’t a woman who missed many things.

He had only recently discovered that he wasn’t alone in the unusual abilities he possessed. He was a pathfinder, a descendent of a strain of genetically modified humans that the Founders had created centuries ago with the intention of improving the human race. Lamia was a pathfinder, as well. Before Shai came to live with them, she had been the only pathfinder in the nomadic Outrider tribe of Raven Clan. A mild-looking blond woman with a wiry frame honed by years of living in the wild, she exuded a confidence and capability that Shai envied. Her petite form was compactly built, sinewy and strong. While she intimidated him sometimes with her blunt, no-nonsense demeanor, he had learned that her candor masked a kind and caring person at heart. She had taken it on herself to train him not only in basic educational skills but also in how to further develop his pathfinder abilities, helping him to gain a deeper understanding of who and what he was.

I’ll see you this afternoon, he said, standing up and reaching for the book satchel next to his chair.

We’ll start a new history chapter then, Lamia said, giving him a sharp-edged smile. And don’t forget to finish up that math homework.

Shai groaned; as much as he appreciated the opportunity to catch up on the schooling he had missed as a child, having scheduled classes to attend was proving to be more than a little aggravating.

Outside the tent, the stunted husks of the trees that clung to the edges of the wash offered meager shade, their branches rasping dryly in the slow breeze. Barren hills spread away in all directions, spotted with snarls of low brush and dry islands of tangled grass. The sky overhead was wide and scarred-looking, scudded with scattered banks of low, grey clouds that layered the hills beneath them in chasing streamers of light and shadow. The colors were muted, pale tans and beiges interspersed with creamy rose and grey, a palette that looked the same on the spreading hills as it did on the sky above.

The view was awe-inspiring in its way, if a bit haunting in its sheer emptiness and isolation. As always, Shai couldn’t suppress a small shiver at the sight of it; even after all these weeks of living outside the city, he couldn’t get used to the openness of the world outside Nhil-Rhar’s walls. It was as if a part of him were still that small, frightened child looking desperately for a sheltered corner to hide in—and always would be.

He hadn’t taken five steps outside of the training tent when something startlingly solid impacted with the backs of his knees, nearly bowling him over. Letting out a low grunt of surprise, he stumbled to catch his balance. He spun around to face his assailant, but his reactions were far too slow; the figure was already scrambling up his torso and squeezing its arms tightly around his neck.

Shai! The shrill voice next to his ear was full of impish delight. Tell us another story today.

He couldn’t help smiling as he reached up to loosen the hold the arms had around his throat. The smooth-skinned face that pressed against his in an impulsive hug was round and comely, with wide blue eyes and black hair held back in an elaborate braided tie. The young girl’s breath smelled like candy; she had been raiding the sweets tent again. Maybe later tonight, he promised.

Let him go, Mia, a voice intruded from behind them, its tone lightly chastising. Don’t forget he needs to breathe, the same as you do.

Shai’s smile broadened as he turned around, his arms sliding reflexively underneath Mia’s thighs to hold her weight comfortably against him. Lorne Daggio was approaching from the direction of the family tents, a look of amusement glittering deep in his eyes. Lorne was tall and lean and moved with a fighter’s grace, long black hair identical to Mia’s held back with a simple leather-wrapped clip. A small stone pendant etched with the profile of a raven’s head hung from around his neck, nestled against his chest. He was fifteen years older than Shai, a detail which should have separated them as much as their differing backgrounds and the cultures they had been born into, but somehow their many differences never seemed to act as a wall between them.

You brought it on yourself, you know, Lorne said with a grin. Behind him, his young nephew Tama looked up at Mia with a narrow-eyed expression of disapproval for her enthusiasm; he was ten now, and far too old—according to him—to embarrass himself with such childish antics. He had always been a serious child, with no patience for his sister’s easy excitability. With the stories you’ve been telling them.

As always, the simple act of being near this man made something warm and needful unfurl inside Shai’s chest. Lorne was his guide—a type of psychically augmented human that had been created by the Founders as life partners for the pathfinders. The danger inherent in using pathfinder powers to any depth was that the pathfinders could potentially get lost in the visions they were experiencing, losing touch with their physical bodies entirely and eventually dying because of it. Guides had been created with the ability to psychically bond with pathfinders in order to monitor their emotional states and keep them physically grounded inside their bodies, thus easing the danger that using their Sight opened them up to.

It was a partnership Shai was still having difficulty coming to terms with, although he had made remarkable progress in that area since he first discovered that he was a pathfinder. He had always been fiercely proud of his independence, and the thought that he was somehow incomplete in some way, that he needed the assistance of another human being in order to continue living, was one that he didn’t take kindly to at all. But the Founders had engineered their test subjects so they had no choice but to accept it; both pathfinders and guides without fail craved the physical touch of the partner they bonded with, thus solidifying the bond between them and easing the guide’s role of providing a physical anchor for the pathfinder’s visions. It was an emotionally and physically intimate relationship that had the potential to embody a deep trust and commitment to the other partner, although Shai had seen firsthand how it could be twisted into something more closely resembling slavery for the pathfinder involved.

Memories of the last days he had spent in Nhil-Rhar flickered past his mind’s eye, making him feel cold. He saw Lorne’s eyes narrow slightly, and knew his bondmate had picked up on the echo of remembered fear that passed through him.

Which was all very old news, and certainly didn’t bear discussing when there were children present. They’re just stories, he said, ignoring the questioning look Lorne gave him. I’d be curious, too, if I were in their shoes.

He had gotten into the habit of telling Lorne’s niece and nephew about what life had been like living inside the city, highly edited with all of the terrifying details left out. To children who had spent their entire lives out here in the wild, living for years at a time in a single place inside the confinement of permanent walls and a roof was an exotic and fascinating idea.

The corner of Lorne’s mouth turned up in a smile. Perhaps some new training, to take your mind off of things?

Shai’s mouth curled upward at the suggestion. Over the past few weeks, Lorne had been instructing him in the basic survival skills that children in the Outrider camp were taught as a part of their normal school curriculum. Living in the wild was a dangerous undertaking, despite the Outriders’ separation from the politics and casual violence that existed inside of the city. Such lessons had swiftly become the highlight of Shai’s days, and had expanded from basic survival into hand-to-hand combat and advanced trapping and hunting techniques. Perhaps he enjoyed the lessons because he was gaining some small measure of independence through the skills Lorne was teaching him, but Shai had a dark suspicion he was also subconsciously craving the one-on-one contact with his guide.

Sure, he said, keeping his tone casual. Why not? In his arms, Mia gave a small mew of approval and squeezed him tight around the neck. Even Tama’s solemn eyes gleamed with insuppressible interest as he stood stoically at Lorne’s side. The kids loved watching Shai practice his survival skills; probably because he was so poor at it that his attempts unfailingly proved amusing to them.

Lorne’s smile deepened. Come with me, then.

Shai set Mia down on the ground and held her hand as he moved with Lorne toward the edge of the wash. Lorne’s elbow brushed his arm in passing, and he found himself leaning into it, soaking up the comfort that physical contact with his guide always brought. It would take months yet for the bond they shared to fully mature, binding them together as permanent partners for the rest of their lives, but already he felt bereft if he was away from Lorne for more than a couple of hours. The intensity of the need he felt for this man—a need that had been genetically programmed into him by the Founders—was overwhelming at times, filling him with a vague fear that he truly might not have a choice in this partnership at all.

The thought of such a bond still made him anxious; he didn’t like not knowing how much of his desire to be close to Lorne was a product of his own feelings, and how much was a result of the genetically implanted need for a guide that the Founders had programmed into him. But artificially provoked or no, the desire was a powerful one. Shai frowned, wondering what it would be like once the pairbond between them solidified beyond repeal. Once their bond was fully formed, once time had worked its magic and cemented the psychic joining between them, the only way for the bond to be broken would be through the death of one or both of them.

That was what had happened to Lorne’s previous pathfinder, an Outrider woman named Ariana. The two of them had been partners for years, joined together not just as guide and pathfinder but as husband and wife, each of them hopelessly in love with the other. Ariana had died of cancer four years previously; the breaking of their pairbond left Lorne in a state of psychic shock that he barely survived, and which left him emotionally crippled for years afterward. Shai wasn’t sure he wanted to have that kind of lifelong dependence on another human being, no matter how compassionate and generous a man that partner was.

But for now, Shai had chosen to be here with Lorne, and that made all the difference. More than that, he honestly liked the man. Lorne was a good person, strong and kind and devoted to his people, and they had shared an adventure that drew them together on more than just a genetic level. Shai knew what it was to be bonded to a guide who sought only to dominate him, and Lorne was a welcome change after those terrifyingly abusive relationships. They were developing their relationship slowly, taking time to get to know one another as their pairbond matured, so that the option was open to either of them to end the partnership at any time if they chose. Shai chose to take comfort from that.

Shai? Lorne’s expression was shadowed. Clearly, he had picked up on Shai’s dark mood and wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

Shai shook off the thoughts with an effort and forced a smile. It’s nothing. What are we going to learn today? Rabbit snaring? Shelter building? Mountain climbing?

Lorne hesitated, then visibly made the decision to allow him to change the subject. The look in his eyes turned mischievous. I was thinking more along the lines of self-defense training.

Shai’s heart leapt at the idea. All of his life, he had chosen to take a passive role when the violence in the city of Nhil-Rhar was turned against him. There was plenty of that violence to go around: rape gangs, thieves and robbers, gangbangers showing off their muscle trying to make a name for themselves, collectors from the cartels, not to mention the other orphans on the streets who were competing for scarce resources like food and shelter. Shai wasn’t big, wasn’t strong, and he had opted not to join any of the local gangs so he had no friends to back him up. He was a nothing, a nobody, and nothings like him tended to disappear in Nhil-Rhar as commonly as the fog that clung to the buildings during the autumn months burned away in sunlight. The only way he knew how to survive was to keep his head down and his mouth shut, and hope that he wouldn’t be noticed.

Such a philosophy had saved his life, he was sure. Unbonded pathfinders didn’t generally survive into their teens; most succumbed to their visions and drifted away from their physical bodies long before then, and died. But he had always made a conscious effort to suppress his pathfinder ability, even before he understood what it was. Stay quiet, stay hidden, and stay alive. That had always been his motto.

But now Lorne was offering him the chance to fight back, if only a little. Shai wondered if the other man understood just how much that meant to him, and decided he probably did. There wasn’t much their bond kept hidden from each other when it came to their personal feelings.

Like now. A low-burning excitement thrummed underneath Shai’s skin as he turned to face Lorne. His boots scraped on the dry, powder-like dirt of the wash, kicking up a small cloud of dust around his ankles as he moved. In the distance, jagged hills stretched away toward a misty horizon, barren except for the occasional withered tree or snarled tangle of bush. There wasn’t much that was appealing about life out here in the wild—it was a world of dry, dusty wastelands and stunted foliage and strange, aggressive wildlife—but there was an undeniable appeal to it for Shai nonetheless. Out here, away from the city, he had experienced the first taste of true freedom he had ever known.

He certainly wouldn’t mind if the universe decided to keep trundling along as it was for just a while longer, keeping him comfortable inside the cocoon he had built around himself and sparing him from the need to make any life-altering decisions.

But what were the odds of that happening?

Chapter 2

Tama took Mia’s hand and led her back several paces, giving the two of them room to maneuver. Shai glanced into Lorne’s eyes and smiled, his earlier misgivings fading away from him. Physical activity was a balm for the fears in his head, giving him a much-needed outlet for the frustration that came of sitting in Lamia’s classroom for the past several hours.

Lorne considered Shai for a moment, visibly sizing him up and planning his first move. First form, he said. He grabbed a tight hold of Shai’s wrist with one hand and pulled him forward roughly.

Shai instantly dropped into the fighting stance that Lorne had taught him, lowering his center of gravity and halting his forward movement. A calculated twist of his forearm broke Lorne’s hold on him with an ease that still surprised him after all these weeks.

That was an easy one, he said with a grin. Give me a challenge, why don’t you?

Lorne’s eyes glinted with amusement. Second form, he said, and reached out to wrap both of his hands around the front of Shai’s throat.

Shai faltered for a moment at that before he remembered what to do. He side-stepped backwards in a smooth C-motion, upsetting the other man’s balance, then swept his arm downward quickly to break the grip on his neck. Lorne’s hands fell away from him instantly.

Third form, Lorne said without giving him a chance to catch his breath. A strong hand abruptly knotted in Shai’s hair, pulling his head backward and arching his throat.

Three, three, three...Shai’s brain groped for the appropriate defense for this particular attack, racing in circles for a moment before he remembered. Dropping his weight again, he jabbed his forearm upward in a quick side-handed strike to the target nerve on Lorne’s wrist, forcing the hand in his hair to unclench and release him.

Four, Lorne said, catching him off guard, and suddenly there were two strong arms wrapped tightly around his middle, lifting him off his feet. Shai cursed under his breath and kicked his legs futilely as Lorne’s hold on him tightened.

Relax. Lorne’s voice was soft against his ear. Shai’s back felt warm where it was pressed against his bondmate’s chest, filling his mind with memories that he really did not need to be thinking about at the moment. Don’t forget to breathe. Think about what you need to do, and then do it.

Shai closed his eyes and forced himself to take a long breath. Panic wouldn’t help anyone other than his attacker if this situation were real. So think; Lorne had taught him what to do. All he had to do was remember.

Still breathing slowly, forcing himself to stay calm, he curled his body forward, encouraging Lorne’s body to bend forward with him. At the same time, he grabbed hold of Lorne’s clasped hands and rapped hard at the base of his knuckles, right where the sensitive nerve endings were gathered. Lorne grunted once but didn’t loosen his hold. Snarling just a bit, Shai twisted hard and kicked back with his legs, exploding out of the bear hug with all of the wiry strength he could muster.

He felt a surge of exhilaration when he broke free. Stumbling slightly, he drew in a deep, satisfied breath and triumphantly brushed his hair away from his eyes with the fingers of one hand.

That was when Lorne tackled him from behind, driving his body down to the dusty ground with a force that surprised a strangled yelp out of him. Shai flailed and tried to squirm away, but Lorne used his superior leverage to pin him securely where he lay.

Get off me, Shai snapped, spitting out the dust he’d swallowed when he hit the ground. To be truthful, he was more angry with himself for being caught by surprise so easily. What the hell are you thinking?

I’m thinking that if we were in Nhil-Rhar, you would be dead right now. Lorne’s weight was heavy and warm on Shai’s back, distracting in its proximity but also implacable. His fingers were iron-hard around Shai’s wrist and side. You forgot the most important part of the technique.

Damn. Shai closed his eyes and sighed. Always look around and take in your surroundings after you escape. The guy you just fought off might have friends.

Right. Lorne loosened his grip and rolled backward, pulling Shai with him into a sitting position. Thighs brushing, he smiled just a bit into Shai’s eyes. Don’t let down your guard just because you succeeded at one technique. Always be prepared for the next assault.

Shai couldn’t help smiling back. I’ll remember next time.

He was aware suddenly of the sun beating down hot and honey-smooth around them, the hard rasp of the ground under his palm, the feathery soft brush of Lorne’s thumb moving across the side of his hand, the incredible gas-fire blue of his bondmate’s eyes. Lorne’s thoughts were a low buzz spreading underneath the surface of his own, warm and familiar and tinged with a heady mix of fondness and exhilaration and pride in how far Shai was coming in his training.

Shai wanted very much to kiss him.

A low giggle drew his attention to where Mia and Tama stood nearby, watching the training session with wide eyes. Mia was tugging insistently at her brother’s hand. Uncle Lorne won! she said. Shai wasn’t sure, but he thought she sounded disappointed. Next time you’ll win, Shai.

Yeah. Shai grinned and stood up awkwardly, pulling Lorne up to stand beside him. Next time for sure.

Maybe tonight, Lorne said, his eyes glinting. He didn’t let go of Shai’s hand.

The words were innocent, but the thoughts swirling behind them suggested that he was referring to something more than just another training session. Shai smiled; so he wasn’t the only one aching for more touching after that little scuffling match. There were days when the two of them couldn’t seem to go more than a couple of hours without finding an out-of-the-way place and putting their hands all over each other; he thought they were showing admirable restraint under the circumstances. Lamia assured him that was an effect of the growing pairbond between them and that the urges would die down in time, but Shai wasn’t so sure. He accepted that the pathfinder bond was making him crave his bondmate’s touch to help solidify it, but that didn’t change the fact that Lorne Daggio was one damn sexy man.

Tonight, he agreed, wondering if the low burn of anticipation he was feeling belonged to him or to Lorne. Or even if there was a difference any longer.

Smiling, Lorne reached for Mia’s hand. Shai felt him letting the desire he felt go for the time being with the equivalent of a mental sigh. Let’s go get some lunch.

Lunch. Right. Shai shook himself free of his thoughts and fell into step beside them. Horny as being around Lorne tended to make him these days, there was a time and a place for those kinds of feelings, and this was most certainly not it.

The time and the place, he thought ruefully, might just have to come sooner rather than later today.

****

At present they were camped three days’ steady hike from Sanctuary, a permanent fortress that served as a sort of crossroads for the Outrider clans. Raven Clan was only one of many tightly knit communities among the Outriders, functioning as a kind of extended family with a rigid clan structure. Shai had been adopted into the clan without hesitation when he’d made the choice to live among them nearly two months ago. He wasn’t the only one who had made that decision; the Outriders sent raiding parties into Nhil-Rhar regularly to collect supplies, and the refugees they rescued along the way sometimes made the decision to live out in the wilderness with them rather than return to their homes in the city. There were many members of Raven Clan, Shai knew, who hadn’t been born out here in the wild.

One of them was Stefan Nijinsky, the current clan leader. He was a burly, no-nonsense man who reminded Shai a bit of Eli, the owner of the nightclub he had worked at before he discovered he was a pathfinder. Stefan had been a captive of the Red Hand, one of the numerous cartels that operated inside Nhil-Rhar. He was a part of a slave caravan when the Outriders found him, ready to be shipped off to the pens at Rual where he would have been sold as a fighter in one of the many underground bloodsport rings there. The Outriders liberated the entire caravan, and he was one of the few who opted to turn his back on city life and live among his rescuers outside the city’s walls. To Shai’s knowledge, he had never regretted the decision.

Stefan had married an Outrider woman and had a son who was currently about Shai’s age. Damen was Shai’s polar opposite in many ways; dark-haired and leanly athletic, he had grown up learning the ways of the Outriders and how to survive on his own in the wild. Shai didn’t particularly care for him, although he wasn’t sure exactly why that was. There was nothing overtly offensive about him, but even so, there was something about him that made Shai’s hackles rise whenever they had to interact.

Damen was standing in the shade of the cooking tent when they arrived, a long spear held loosely in one hand. He was one of the tribe’s more successful hunters and took a significant amount of pride in his ability to provide food for the clan. Shai couldn’t really fault him for that; if he’d had any talents that were worth anything to anyone, he’d probably be proud of them, too. His unpredictable pathfinder ability didn’t really seem to fit that description, and tended to be more of an annoyance than a help most days when he tried to use it. Lamia insisted that competence as a pathfinder would come with time and practice, but as far as Shai could tell, that day was a long way off for him.

Daggio. Luna. Damen inclined his head slightly as they approached with Mia and Tama in tow. His strong features were smoothed by the shadow of the cooking tent, but he still looked uncomfortably haughty to Shai’s jaded eye. He was dressed in the traditional loose animal-hide clothing the Outriders tended to prefer, but there was a splash of color in the long feathers clipped to the ends of his hair, the band of fur wrapped snugly around one wrist. He was always decorated in some fashion; Shai wasn’t sure if it was that, his hunting talent, or his status as the clan leader’s son that made him so popular among his peers in the village. He had a reputation for being one of the more sought-after conquests among the tribe’s younger women.

Shai had never been popular, nor cared to be, so it didn’t particularly bother him. He lifted Mia up into his arms—she was beginning to get tired again—and slowed to a stop as he drew closer to the tent.

Hi, Damen. He could smell the smoke from the wood fires now, and it was making his mouth water. They were camped close to the river this time around, which probably meant fish for dinner. Fresh bread as well by the scent of it, and eggs, maybe, from the laying hens. Fruits and vegetables tended to be limited to what they could forage from the wild, but there might be some left over from the last stop they’d made at the farms at Sanctuary.

Lorne cast a glance at the low generator chugging away near the side of the tent. How are we doing on fuel?

Damen shrugged. We’ve got enough to last the next few weeks or so. I’ll probably send another raiding party in to the city by the end of the month. He flicked a glance in Shai’s direction. You look like you were just mugged in a back alley.

Shai frowned at him. He was annoyed to feel his face heating. We were practicing self-defense techniques, he said, wishing he didn’t sound so defensive.

A shadow of a smile tugged at the corner of Damen’s mouth. Looks like you should keep practicing.

A spike of annoyance radiated from Lorne at the comment, warming Shai down the length of their bond. Shai is doing exceptionally well, Lorne said firmly, fixing Damen with a narrow-eyed stare. He’s getting better every day.

I wouldn’t test him against a real attacker just yet, Damen said. His eyes glinted sardonically.

Part of Shai’s dislike for Damen probably stemmed from the fact that Damen very obviously did not like him. He had never figured out just why that was—certainly he’d never done anything to provoke the sentiment—except that Damen seemed to have the same blanket prejudice against a lot of the clan members who came from the city. Shai wasn’t certain that Damen resented their easy inclusion into the tribe, or even why he should, but the thought lingered regardless.

Stifling a sigh, Lorne let the comment go. That’s quite a store of gas to be carrying with us. Are we moving any of it out to the site for Ellaeryia?

The Outrider culture, for all its determination to separate itself from Nhil-Rhar and live outside the city walls on its own terms, was still dependent on the city for its survival. There was a limited amount of supplies that could be effectively harvested from the wild, and those items that could not be foraged or grown or built had to be stolen. Raiding parties from each of the clans traveled into the city on a regular basis to collect provisions as needed: among them rare medicines, first aid supplies, electronics, power cells, and gasoline for their archaic electrical generators.

Lorne in particular loathed the necessity of being dependent on the city to such an extent and could not wait to cut ties from it. It was the dream of the Outrider people to create a new, self-sustaining city far away from the corruption and decadence of Nhil-Rhar where they could raise their families in freedom and peace, without having to return to Nhil-Rhar ever again. The site for the city had already been chosen, and plans were being drawn up among the clan leaders to deliver provisions in regular shipments to begin stockpiling for the initial construction. The name for the new city had been chosen by Outrider consensus: Ellaeryia, a complicated yet oddly compelling word that meant enlightenment in the language of Lorne’s ancestors, referring to the reward that eventually came at a road’s end. To a nomadic people like the Outriders, the idea of their long road finding an end at such a place was compelling indeed.

It was a dream Shai could readily get behind—he more than anyone understood the desire to break ties from Nhil-Rhar—but he’d learned over the past months that it was rare for a dream to be shared uniformly among an entire group, especially one as diverse as the Outriders. Not all of them shared the clan leaders’ vision; some of them honestly feared for the success of such a venture, while others were merely content with the status quo and saw no reason to change it. Stealing supplies from the city, dodging the Agency, and hiding their families in the wild was the only life they had ever known, and they were hesitant to do anything to change it. Damen, Shai had long believed, was one of the status quo thinkers.

Such sentiments were in the minority, however, and not very vocal. Shai rather suspected that when the day came for the Outriders to turn their backs on the wild and on Nhil-Rhar and begin forging their new civilization, there would be a clan or two of stragglers who elected to remain behind.

But all of that was far in the future, possibly even beyond Shai’s lifetime. He tuned out the sound of Lorne’s and Damen’s voices as they conversed—Lorne’s soft and questioning, Damen’s low and sharp—and let his gaze drift over the camp around them. A thin haze hung in the air, pale dust kicked up by passing feet and the rush of circulated air from inside the tents. It was the dry season, and naturally growing greenery was scarce here.

A subtle anxiety tugged insistently at the back of his mind, making him frown. He tried to pin it down and identify what was causing it, but the perception remained elusive despite his efforts. Without warning, a flood of unadulterated fear washed through him, reminding him uncomfortably of the times he’d been lost and running for his life through the streets of Nhil-Rhar. A flurry of movement at the far end of the camp caught his eye.

Before he could turn to get Lorne’s attention, Lamia emerged from the training tent at the base of one of the hills nearby, her hands planted firmly on her narrow hips. Shai couldn’t see her expression from this distance, but he thought she might be frowning.

Lorne appeared at his side, alerted by the sudden agitation in Shai’s thoughts. His hand settled with soothing weight on Shai’s shoulder, filling him with a slowly curling warmth that filled him straight down to his toes.

What is it? Lorne asked.

Shai shook his head. I’m not sure. As he watched, Lamia broke into a swift jog toward the edge of the camp where the unidentifiable flurry of movement Shai had noticed was still visible. Steve Kessel, her guide and bondmate, met her halfway there and fell into step quickly beside her.

Shai felt distinctly uneasy. He glanced at Damen, who was frowning in his direction. For the first time, he wondered if the other man might be jealous of his pathfinder ability.

Let’s go see what’s going on, he said, and, ignoring Damen’s continued scowl, moved at a brisk pace to see what all the commotion was about.

Chapter 3

Stefan Nijinsky was one of the figures standing with the group at the end of the camp, along with two others Shai knew only in passing. They all wore identical worried expressions. He watched while Lamia and Kessel joined them, also looking anxious. Lamia dropped to her knees next to something in front of them on the ground; it wasn’t until Shai drew closer that he realized there was a woman lying there, one entire side of her clothing soaked dark with blood. Her face was badly burned, a macabre mask of tragedy that twisted her mouth into a curling grimace of agony on one side.

Lorne immediately pushed Tama toward Shai and moved forward to help. What happened? he asked briskly, kneeling down at the injured woman’s other side. His hand—long-fingered and gentle—moved to cup the side of her head.

The style of the injured woman’s clothes and her deeply tanned skin marked her as an Outrider, but she wasn’t anyone Shai recognized. She was maybe forty years old, he judged, compact and sturdily built. Someone from another clan, maybe? If so, what was she doing here? The way he understood it, the various clans kept mainly to themselves outside of the yearly Festival, wandering in their own isolated patterns throughout the majority of the year to decrease the likelihood that anyone from the city would be able to find them.

Nelith and Raine found her wandering out in the north basin while they were on patrol. There was a deep frown etched between Stefan’s thick brows. She wasn’t particularly coherent, but she insisted on speaking to the clan leader and wouldn’t rest until they’d brought her back here to camp.

What happened to her? That was Lamia’s voice, low and sharp.

Stefan shook his head without taking his eyes off of the woman’s ravaged face. I don’t know. They just arrived here when she lost consciousness. We’ve already sent for Astor.

Astor Kellerman was Raven Clan’s chief medic, a good-humored, cheerful young surgeon who was a favorite among the clan’s children because of his amiable nature and his penchant for handing out lollipops with examinations. While Shai had not yet had occasion to make use of his services, he’d met him on several occasions. Despite his overly jovial demeanor, Shai judged the man to be extremely professional at what he did, at least the equal of the medic Eli kept on staff back at the Hunted Lord.

Lamia knelt down at the stranger’s side across from Lorne. The skin between her brows was taut with worry and concentration.

She’s from Eagle Clan. Her voice was quiet. She held one of the woman’s limp hands between both of her own, squeezing it lightly. Behind her, Kessel moved in and closed his hands over her shoulders encouragingly. The physical contact from her guide, Shai knew, was providing the anchor she needed while she called on her pathfinder senses.

I believe Eagle Clan was planning to follow the eastward migration trails this season, Stefan said. They might be camped as near as fifty miles or so from here.

A long way to walk if you’re wounded, Lorne said with a frown.

Lamia nodded. Her name is Tabitha. I can’t.... Kessel’s fingers tightened over her shoulder, one thumb tracing up the back of her neck. She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She’s frightened. Even unconscious, she’s very frightened. She shook her head, her eyes taking on a haunted cast. "Something terrible happened to her. To her entire clan."

Lorne shared a glance with Stefan. An attack from the city? he guessed.

Shai knew that it wasn’t unheard of for the Outriders to be targeted by factions from inside Nhil-Rhar. They were free thinkers who refused to bow under the authority of any of the city’s ruling cartels, which made them dangerous in the minds of many of the city’s inhabitants. The Agency in particular was a threat they had to be on guard against, because the Agency—with all the scientific knowledge that was left from the original Founders at their disposal—had pathfinders of their own that they weren’t above using to track down and control their adversaries.

Maybe. Stefan looked disturbed at the possibility. Remembering the last Agency attack they had lived through at the Sanctuary fortress, Shai could understand why. Shai didn’t want to think what it might be like to be caught out in the open by them.

Any further discussion was interrupted when Astor arrived, appearing at a dead run from the direction of the inner camp. There was nothing humorous about his expression now. His face—young and usually carefree—was lined with concern as he dropped to his knees at the injured woman’s side, barely pausing to give Lorne time to scramble out of the way. His deft fingers were already opening the medkit he carried with him and preparing the tools he would need. His short copper-red hair caught the light as he bent over her, hands moving with exaggerated care to judge the extent of her wounds.

What happened? he asked shortly.

Stefan filled him in while Shai’s gaze shifted to look out over the barren landscape that stretched away from the camp. Mia and Tama were pressed against each of his sides, Mia’s arms tight around his thighs. Violence was no stranger to Outrider children, but all the same, they appeared badly frightened. He kept an arm around each of them, offering what comfort he could as Astor worked to save the Eagle Clan woman’s life.

Had someone attacked the other clan? If so, was Raven Clan at risk as well? That thought had to be at the forefront of everyone’s minds. Shai tried to imagine what could have caused the woman’s injuries; the burns on her face looked like they might have been made by a high powered energy beam of some kind, like the kind that came from a disruptor field or phase rifle. The weapons the citizens of Nhil-Rhar had developed to use against one another were many and varied, and endlessly creative in the ways they could cause damage to the bodies of otherwise