Chimeria Omnibus: Chimeria

By Meredith Mansfield

Blood Will Tell and Blood Is Thicker in one volume.

Blood Will Tell:
Being a half-blood is inconvenient on a good day, especially when the half you got from your mother is werewolf.  Valeriah can't take wolf form, but the full moon still fills her with manic energy.  Running helps; a tired werewolf is a good werewolf. 
Living perennially caught between two worlds--human and werewolf, magic and non-magic--doesn't leave much room for love. That suits Valeriah just fine. She's never had any luck with that anyway. 
Until her cousin's life is threatened, that is, and out of necessity she accepts the help of a mysterious young man to protect Cristel. Rolf is everything that makes Valeriah's pulse speed up in spite of herself. Now, with Cristel's life in the balance, is the worst possible time for that kind of complication. 

But Rolf's secrets could destroy her trust and that might cost her life.

Blood Is Thicker:
In the sequel to BLOOD WILL TELL, the newlyweds, Rolf and Valeriah, face a new crisis. 
Born half-werewolf, Valeriah's life has never been simple. Her recent marriage to a dragon has led to a transformation--Valeriah is now a dragon, too. But, taking the form and knowing how to actually be a dragon is not the same thing. Her life has even more complications than ever. So many, in fact, that she doesn't recognize the signs of her own pregnancy until Rolf rushes her to the Hatching Grounds to lay their eggs.
But then things only get worse, because something's wrong on the Hatching Grounds. The underground source of heat that sustains the eggs is slowly dying. Valeriah and Rolf have to scramble to discover what's gone wrong and find a way to fix it before their eggs die.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Meredith Mansfield
• Release date: Jun 17, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386995203

Book preview

Blood Will Tell

Chapter 1: The Message

Valeriah let the droning voices wash over her, ignoring them. Politicians and businessmen: they could talk more and say less than any ten other groups. Fortunately, it wasn’t her job to listen to them. In fact, better not, since she needed to stay alert.

She scanned the crowd again. She didn’t see anything out of place, but her instincts screamed at her that something was wrong. Sight could be deceiving, so she submerged herself in her other senses. Senses that were sharper than a human’s.

There. The sharp scent of fear overlaid with anger. That was out of place on a sunny day at the opening ceremony for a new high school science lab. Circulating inconspicuously through the crowd, Valeriah let her nose lead her to the source. The man in the bright yellow T-shirt didn’t look like much, but a concealed weapon could be a great leveler. She didn’t smell gun oil on him, but there was something else.

The mayor finished his brief remarks, finally. Zobran—he called himself Zebulon Towers on this side of the portal—stood to give his speech as the primary benefactor of the lab. Valeriah breathed more deeply, still trying to identify the strange scent. Not dangerous. But something . . .

The yellow-shirted man moved forward, raising his arm and shouting. Towers Technology works for the military. Their money is blood money.

Oh. One of those. He probably wasn’t a real threat, but her job right now was to safeguard Zobran. Still, there wasn’t any need to do more than interfere. No point in drawing undue attention over a simple protester. Before the man could complete his motion and throw whatever it was he held in his hand, Valeriah pounced. She moved so fast her leg was a blur as she brought it around behind the man’s knees. He fell. Whatever he’d held in his hand shattered and splashed red across the grey concrete of the quad. Not blood, the smell was all wrong, but something meant to look like it.

Valeriah recovered quickly and raised her eyes to see that Rayan had closed in beside Zobran, covering him in case of another attack. Good. Rayan was new, but he seemed to know his job. The few policemen on hand for the ribbon-cutting ceremony pushed their way towards the disturbance. Valeriah eased her way out of the crowd, moving slowly so as not to draw attention to herself.

~~~

Valeriah rode shotgun, letting Rayan drive the Mercedes up the Hill to the condo. Even from the front seat, she could feel Zobran tense as the headlights picked out a strange man loitering by the front door. Wizards like Zobran tended to be paranoid away from Chimeria, where they couldn’t do more than minor magic. Good thing for Zobran that innate abilities like hers weren’t affected by distance from the portals.

Valeriah hopped out of the car to investigate. She took a deep breath as her eyes narrowed. The man smelled nervous. He also smelled of Chimeria. Looked it, too. His blue tunic and tan homespun trousers would only be remarkable in Chimeria because they were the colors of the official messenger service. Here, they made him look like a refugee from a costume party. And it wasn’t even the right time of year for that.

Some of the tension in his face and body eased at sight of her, taking in her red hair, and he stepped forward. Are you Valeriah, granddaughter of the wizard Azander?

Who were they allowing to cross the portal these days? And hadn’t anybody explained the concept of secrecy to this man?

She didn’t relax her balanced fighter’s stance. She did let her training as a member of the Portal Watch take over and fill her voice with offended authority. And what would you say if I wasn’t? For that matter, how would you explain that question to anyone who might have overheard it?

I . . . uh . . .

Valeriah nodded. Right. Next time be more discreet. What do you want with me?

The man just looked at her. Are you—?

Of course I’m Valeriah.

Valeriah tensed as he reached into his tunic, but his hand came out with an envelope, not a weapon.

Sorry. I’ve been waiting for you and I had begun to think I’d missed you again. You’re not easy to catch up to. It’s taken much longer than expected. He held out the envelope. I was told this message was urgent.

Valeriah took the envelope and turned it over. Strange. Why would anyone pay to send her a message? It wasn’t as if she had a great many family and friends. A message left at the Watch barracks was bound to reach her sooner or later.

She looked up to ask, but the man had already stepped back into the shadows and was gone, hidden by the close-set buildings. Valeriah tore open the envelope and stepped closer to the porch light, so she could read the note.

Come home as soon as you can. I’m dying.

It was unmistakably her grandfather’s scribble. She shivered as a chill that had nothing to do with the night breeze traveled down her spine.

She remembered the warmth and comfort of his embrace through all the trials of her childhood, from skinned knees, to learning to cope with her dual nature, to her nightmares and her first broken heart, and her second. His smell, a mixture of old books, maple candies, and the electric whiff of magic.

Eight years since she’d been home. She’d been young and stubborn, so certain of her opinions. And she’d let foolish pride keep her away far too long.

She felt her throat close up at the thought that that final argument might be the last words between them. She couldn’t let it end that way. She loved the kind, obstinate old man too much for that.

Valeriah jumped when Rayan tapped her shoulder. What is it?

She looked up to see both Rayan and Zobran watching her. Valeriah started to push past them. I have to go home.

Of course you can’t leave now, Zobran said. Someone just tried to kill me.

He was only a protester. He wasn’t trying to kill you, she answered. You’ll still have Rayan here to protect you. And the condo is secure. My grandfather is dying. I have to leave now.

Rayan doesn’t have your experience or your abilities. Zobran narrowed his eyes. You are the one in charge of my safety. Now, suddenly you say you have a dying grandfather? A man I’ve never even heard you mention? You can wait for a replacement."

Zobran was lucky that it was so near the new moon. If the moon was full, she wouldn’t have the patience for this needless delay. He raised me. Just because we quarreled when I left, doesn’t mean I don’t . . . Valeriah stopped herself, trying to get a grip on the conflicting emotions swirling through her.

Oh, very well. Zobran waved his hand. You’re not going to be much good to me here if your mind is back in Chimeria. I suppose we’ll be safe enough in the condo overnight. But send someone back to take your place.

Valeriah didn’t give him time to think twice. It would take her a day to get home. She jogged the short distance to the main highway and dashed across, then ran across the manicured grass of the park. She launched herself over the locked gate that marked the border between the park and the nature preserve beyond and raced down the dirt path.

The cliff-top trail was closed at night for good reason. One misstep could end in a fatal fall to the jagged rocks and crashing waves below. That didn’t frighten her nearly as much as being too late. Even on a moonless night, Valeriah could see well enough. Her werewolf blood was good for that much.

A little over two miles farther on, she veered onto a less-used trail heading away from the cliff and up the scrubby hillside. Valeriah slowed to a walk as she left that path and pushed through the thick brush to get to the twin oaks in the far corner of the preserve. She ignored the sign instructing her to stay on the marked trail and the one warning about rattlesnakes. Those signs were mainly there to keep fools away from the portal anyway. Even if they weren’t, she’d risk her reflexes against a snake’s.

She walked around the two ancient oak trees until she saw the slight shimmer between them. She stepped into the portal, barely registering the tingling sensation on her skin as she passed through the barrier between the worlds. One more step carried her into Chimeria, in a forest clearing a hard day’s ride from her grandfather’s tower.

Chapter 2: A Death in the Family

As many times as Valeriah had crossed that portal, the change still surprised her. In one step, she went from brown coastal sage scrub to deep forest, light and shadow filtering through ancient trees. From one breath to the next, the air lost the metallic tang of smog and filled with the smell of pines and earth. Evening became early morning.

The winter here was much colder than the milder climate of Southern California. She really should have stopped long enough to grab a sweater. Her jeans and T-shirt were not enough, here.

Two members of the Watch strode out of the trees to stop her. One more obstacle to delay her. Valeriah suppressed the urge to push past them. They’d only chase her down. Or do their best, anyway. There were probably two dozen more in the Watch base out of sight in the trees, within call. It was their business to keep other-siders out of Chimeria and dressed as she was, they couldn’t tell whether she belonged here or not. She’d get a lot farther much faster by working with them. She knew all that, but it was still hard to force herself to stop.

The younger man reached her first, his eyes widening slightly as he noticed the bronze cloak pin fastened to her T-shirt. The dragon biting its own tail was the emblem of the Portal Watch. It proclaimed her one of them. She didn’t know the rookie, but the senior man was Baltus. Good. They’d worked together before. He wouldn’t slow her down with unnecessary questions.

I need a fast horse, Baltus, she said. My grandfather’s dying. And Zobran needs a replacement. Someone with experience on the other side.

As soon as we’re relieved, I’ll go myself, Baltus said. Danal’s still too green to be left in charge. He clapped the younger man on the shoulder. Go saddle the bay for her, lad."

The young man went off, looking back over his shoulder at Valeriah. It was her red hair and ruddy complexion. On this side of the portals they fairly screamed werewolf. 

Hurry up, Baltus said. He smiled at Valeriah and cocked his head in the direction Danal had gone. A bit slow, that one. He’ll put it together eventually. There is only one female werewolf in the Watch.

Half werewolf, Valeriah said.

Baltus opened his hand in a gesture that said the distinction made no difference.

Valeriah acknowledged that with a shrug. Other than the fact that she couldn’t take wolf form, there really was no difference. She had all of a werewolf’s other abilities. And she’d always be treated as a werewolf.

She bounced on her toes with impatience.

That bad? Baltus asked.

I don’t know. She could hear the frustration in her own voice. I don’t know how long the message took to reach me. I don’t want to get there too late . . . too late to say what I should have said eight years ago.

Aye, Baltus said.

Valeriah began emptying her pockets. She grimaced as she pulled her cell phone out and handed it over to Baltus. Forgot to leave that before I left for the portal.

You were in a hurry.

She held her arms out to her sides, expecting to be searched. Besides being useless here, the phone was illegal in Chimeria. Part of the job of the Portal Watch was to prevent the import of drugs, weapons, and electronics—anything, really, that ran by other than mechanical or magical means. Let’s get this over with.

Baltus made a negating gesture. No. You’re a fellow member of the Watch. The phone was an oversight. I trust you not to be bringing contraband into Chimeria. He grinned. Besides, I don’t think you could squeeze much else into those jeans.

Valeriah shrugged agreement and flashed him a grateful smile as she put her pocketknife back. Blades were allowed, just not guns or explosives. Not with Chimeria’s volatile mix of contentious magical races.

You’re Valeriah, Danal said as he came back, leading the bay. Aren’t you?

Uh huh. Valeriah took the reins from his hands and vaulted into the saddle.

From what they said, I thought you’d be bigger.

Baltus chuckled. She’s as big as she needs to be, lad.

Valeriah tossed Baltus a salute. Then she turned the horse’s head and drove her heels into his side, leaning forward to help him run faster, praying to the Goddess that she would be in time to say goodbye to the man who had been both father and mother to her.

~~~

The horse’s hooves clattered on the cobblestones of the tower’s inner court. Her cousin, Cristel, came hurrying out to meet her. She had the ethereal coloring of their grandmother—pale, white-blonde hair, alabaster skin, and crystal-blue eyes. Cristel’s welcoming smile was bright and untroubled. That alone told Valeriah she was in time. Grandfather was still alive. Valeriah sagged with relief. The vise that had settled around her chest loosened at last and she took what felt like her first deep breath since reading the note.

She dismounted and gave Cristel a quick hug.

It’s good to have you home again, Cristel said, stepping back.

I’ve missed you, too. How is he? Valeriah asked.

Well enough, considering, Cristel answered, starting back into the tower. He’ll be glad to see you. He’s been fretting over getting that message to you. Apparently, you’re not that easy to find, even for a wizard of Grandfather’s power.

I came as soon as I got it. Valeriah followed Cristel up the spiral stairs. It felt familiar and strange at the same time. Nothing had changed in the years she’d been gone; even Cristel was the same, but Valeriah certainly wasn’t the naïve seventeen year-old who had set out so confidently eight years ago.

Valeriah was surprised to find their grandfather sitting up and apparently hard at work in his study. In her mind’s eye, she’d seen him in bed, propped up with pillows, gasping and weak. For a moment she felt a flash of anger. If this was all some ruse to get her to come home, if he’d frightened her like that . . .  But no. He was so thin, even frail, and she didn’t remember his hair being so white. She ran to embrace him. He pulled her close, his withered arms unexpectedly strong.

The note said you were dying, she said.

And so I am, the old wizard said. But I have the means to keep myself functional until almost the end. He fingered an amulet that hung around his neck. Magical means, of course. Long illnesses are such a bore for everyone concerned. Besides, I have to catalog all of this for you girls. Otherwise it will take you years to figure out what’s here. His gesture took in the desk, work tables, and shelves cluttered with hundreds of magical talismans of greater or lesser power.

Why don’t you take a rest now, Grandfather? Cristel said. You’ve been at this all day and it’s getting late.

The old man shook his head. Too much to do.

But I’d rather talk to you, Valeriah said. I’ve been away for eight years.

Azander smiled. Ganging up on me again, eh? Just like when you were children.

Valeriah smiled, too. Old habits die hard.

Give me another hour. We’ll talk over the evening meal. If Cristel hasn’t forgotten to prepare something. He tried to look fierce, but a smile kept tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Valeriah shook her head at his stubbornness—one more thing that hadn’t changed—and followed Cristel back downstairs. Valeriah put the horse in the stables, giving him the good rub down he deserved. She came into the kitchen to find that Cristel had most of supper ready—potatoes in the oven, carrots and turnips from the small garden, a large salad. Valeriah sat at the big kitchen table and started shelling a basket of peas, settling back into the routines of home without thinking about it.

Cristel looked up from putting some apples in the oven to bake for dessert. She looked out the window and then back to Valeriah. It’s all vegetables and fruit. I forgot. It’s been so long since you were home. I’ve got some eggs and there might be a ham or some bacon in the larder, if you want . . .

Valeriah smiled and shook her head. Cristel wasn’t forced to adjust her diet with the waxing and waning of the moon. This’ll be fine, Cristel. It’s close to the new moon. I eat the same as you when the moon is thin, remember?

Cristel laughed in relief. I couldn’t remember what the moon looked like last night.

Valeriah tapped the side of her head. I keep track of the moon all the time. Have to. I won’t really need a meat diet for a couple of weeks. Then, I’ll just have to hunt up my own food.

Cristel looked slightly queasy at the thought. But then, Cristel had no incompatible heritage to war with Grandmother Elsibel’s unicorn blood. She never ate meat.

What have you been doing all this time? Cristel added a wedge of cheese to the platter, in spite of Valeriah’s assurances.

Well, we get all kinds of work in the Watch, from guarding the portals to keeping the peace. Most recently I’ve been working as a bodyguard for certain members of the Council when they have business on the other side of the portals.

That sounds exciting.

Not as much as you’d think. Generally, it’s days of being alert for a threat that never comes. How about you, Cristel? Have you been shut up in this tower with Grandfather for the last eight years? I thought you’d be married by now. You always used to dream about that.

Cristel shook her head a little wistfully. No. That was before, when it was far away. Now, I find that I don’t much care for the idea. I like it right here. This is home.

Valeriah quirked an eyebrow. That wasn’t what she expected to hear from Cristel at all.

~~~

They sat down to eat around the small table in the converted sunroom across from the kitchen, Valeriah on Azander’s left and Cristel on his right. The inner window, across from Grandfather and facing the tower courtyard, was a large and expensive piece of plate glass imported from the other side. It was a bright, sunny room in the mornings. Cristel had planted flowerbeds outside the window, surrounding the tower’s shrine to the Goddess. With her green thumb, there was a colorful display even this deep into winter. Too dark to see them now, of course.

At night, most of the interest in the room was on the opposite wall. Behind Grandfather, the outer window was small, but a large mural of the orchard and forest filled the wall, the painted trees appearing to move in the wind. It had been one of Valeriah’s favorite rooms since she was very young. She remembered many full-moon nights as a child, when she was too young to venture out alone, spent watching the movement of the trees and the way the moon’s light shimmered on the leaves.

So, have you learned what you set out to learn? Grandfather asked as he helped himself to some steaming potatoes.

Valeriah chewed deliberately and waited for the flash of resentment to pass before she answered. She didn’t want to argue with Grandfather. Not now. So why would he bring up the one subject they’d always fought over? If I had learned all I set out to, you would have heard about it, even here. There’s no point in bringing that up, is there?

I thought perhaps if you’d found the answers you were looking for, you’d be ready to come back here to stay. Cristel will be lonely here, after I’m gone.

Valeriah looked around. Even if she had her revenge, would she come back here, to this quiet backwater? How did Cristel keep from dying of boredom? I can’t give up, Grandfather.

You don’t seem to be any further along than you were the last time you were here. Will you spend your whole life seeking vengeance? Grandfather asked.

Valeriah set her knife and fork down and looked directly into his eyes. Among wolves, it would have been a challenge. If necessary. I may have to work my way up into command to learn more. The portals have to be the key. At least, they’re the only clue I have. I’ll keep trying to learn all I can about them. Unless you want to tell me who has the power to make portals.

Grandfather met her gaze without flinching and shook his head. No, Vallie. That knowledge will only get you into trouble.

Valeriah bit back her angry reply, willing herself to stay calm when she really wanted to rail at the old man. How dare he? She wasn’t a child anymore. Surely she’d proven by now that she knew how to take care of herself.

The uncomfortable silence stretched for several moments. Predictably it was Cristel, the peacemaker, who broke it. Is it difficult, being a female in the Watch? There can’t be very many.

There aren’t, Valeriah answered, glad to allow Cristel to redirect the conversation into safer topics. It’s not so bad anymore. At first, I had to prove that I could defend myself if necessary. The others know better, now. Every once in a while I still have to prove that the stories about me are true, but I haven’t had to actually hurt anyone for a long time.

You sound quite bloodthirsty, Cristel said. You didn’t used to be that way.

Valeriah shrugged. Among wolves, no one messes with the alpha bitch.

Cristel winced at her choice of words and went out to fetch the baked apples for dessert.

~~~

After supper, Azander insisted on going back to work. Valeriah sat with Cristel, talking and sipping mint tea in Cristel’s little sewing nook in one corner of the room, close enough to keep him company, but far enough away not to disturb him. They both jumped to their feet when they heard him fall, accompanied by a loud crash and clatter. Valeriah’s heart was in her throat. She was trained to stay calm in a crisis, but it was somehow different here, at home. Her heart dropped to her stomach when she saw Azander sprawled on the floor, his work table overturned, and the objects he’d been cataloging scattered. She crossed to him in a few long strides, Cristel right behind her.

Not as much time as I thought, he said as Valeriah lifted his head and shoulders, propping him up with her body.

She tried to mask the emotions in her face and voice. The truth was she was more frightened for her grandfather in that moment than she would have been fighting single-handed against any ten men.

You’re just tired, that’s all. Here, let’s get you up and into bed. Lean on me. Valeriah half-carried the old man up the stairs. He was frailer than he had looked at first. She could have lifted him and carried him up the stairs, but she didn’t think he’d appreciate that. Together, she and Cristel got him into bed. When they turned away to let him rest for a while, the old wizard grabbed Valeriah’s arm, pulling her back to him.

Promise me, Vallie . . .

What, Grandfather?

He drew in a gasping breath. Promise me you’ll forget about revenge.

Valeriah drew a deep breath and held it. She wanted to promise him anything, do anything to make this easier for him. Why did he have to ask her for the one thing she couldn’t give? This wasn’t a choice and no one who really understood werewolves would ask it of her. The half of her that was werewolf would never rest until she had avenged her family. I can’t make that promise, Grandfather. I’m sorry. But I can’t. It’s not how I’m made. My blood won’t allow it.

He squeezed her hand with desperate strength. It’s too big for you, Vallie. It was too big for me. They’ll kill you.

The temptation was too great. He knew something specific about the murderers, something that frightened him. Valeriah didn’t care about the danger. This was the closest Grandfather had ever come to giving her the information she needed. She had to know what he knew. Who will? What do you know, Grandfather?

He shook his head.

Who can make portals? Who used a portal to kill my parents and my brothers and then closed it again? Who can do that? She knew this wasn’t the time to push him for answers, but she couldn’t help herself.

Silence. The old man’s forehead creased as if he was in pain. Valeriah’s eagerness turned to concern. She shouldn’t have pressed him. She held him up so Cristel could give him a little water.

As she laid him gently back, Valeriah heard him whisper, Dragons . . .

With a final sigh his breath was stilled.

Chapter 3: Grief

Not yet! She’d had barely any time at all with Grandfather. One meal. She hadn’t even told him that she loved him. Not in so many words. Now it was too late.

Valeriah closed her eyes against the emptiness that threatened to engulf her. The memories of her family, her parents and brothers, were old and dim. Her only clear recollection of them was the day of their bloody murders. The only real sense of home and family she had centered around this man. And now he was gone. It felt as though her anchor to those things was suddenly lost and she was adrift. For nearly all of her life, there had been only two people with whom she remembered a true sense of belonging. Half of that had just been stripped away from her. She felt alone. Bereft. Frightened.

This time yesterday, she’d first learned that he was ill. How could he be gone so soon?

Cristel started to sob behind her. Valeriah turned to hug her cousin, not sure whether she was giving or taking comfort from the contact. Cristel’s weeping escalated. Best to get Cristel out of this room. She had probably never seen death before.

Tears had never come as easily for Valeriah, but her vision was blurred now. She disengaged from Cristel long enough to compose Grandfather’s body, straightening his limbs and gently closing his staring eyes. How could he look so peaceful when he’d left such a gaping hole in her world? Then she half-lifted Cristel to her feet and guided her back down to the corner of the study and their cold tea.

She settled Cristel in her upholstered chair and touched the cup with one of the simple charms for reheating liquids. Valeriah pressed the cup of tea into Cristel’s hands.

Drink. It was hard to sob and swallow at the same time. Maybe it would help Cristel get a grip on herself. At least, it wouldn’t hurt. Obediently, Cristel took a sip.

One of them was going to have to be practical, take charge. And it wasn’t likely to be Cristel, so Valeriah had better pull herself together. It was actually a relief to be doing something, even consoling Cristel. It made her feel less helpless. Maybe it only held the emotions and regrets at bay for a little while, but it was better than dissolving into useless tears.

What do we do, now? Cristel’s voice was shaky.

Valeriah didn’t think Cristel was ready for the reality of dealing with the body. In all honesty, she wasn’t sure she was herself, though they’d have to, sooner or later. It wasn’t as if there was anyone else out here to take care of it. No. It was too soon for that, but she wanted to be doing something. If she just sat and thought about it, she’d end up sobbing like Cristel. She looked around her and her eyes lit on the scattered talismans and the overturned table. Might as well start by tidying up the mess Grandfather’s fall made.

When she walked over to their grandfather’s work area, Valeriah found an envelope and three keys left conspicuously in the center of the desk. Those hadn’t been there before. The envelope was addressed to both of them. Valeriah opened it and read the contents aloud.

If you are reading this, I am dead. This message was spelled to remain invisible until my death.

With this message you will find my will. You are both my heirs equally. I leave everything—the tower, my collection of talismans, my library, and treasure—to both of you jointly. Unfortunately, because of the magical items, this bequest must go before the Council of Magical Races to be confirmed. I charge you both not to let anyone change my will.

With this letter, you will find the key to the tower. The lock has been spelled to open only for both of you together. Whatever the Council decides will not change this spell. That is my guarantee that you will both have your share.

Bury my remains in the foundations of the tower beside my Elsibel. You will find the key to the crypt next to the tower key. I have marked the location of the door to the crypt on the tower map.

Valeriah looked at the last sheet of paper. It was, indeed, a plan of the tower with a location at the base marked in red. Odd. She’d have sworn she knew this tower inside and out, having grown up here. But she’d never known that there was a crypt at its base. She went on reading.

The third key is to the treasure room in the cellar. Take what you need and make your way to the Council as quickly as possible. Be careful. You will have enemies on the Council. Insist upon your rights. Protect each other.

And know that I love both of you very much.

Your Grandfather.

I’d rather have him back, Cristel said, choking back a sob as she clutched the silver unicorn pendant around her neck.

Yes, Valeriah said. She touched the golden wolf charm she wore, taking a moment to get her voice under control again. If she started crying, Cristel would start again and then they wouldn’t accomplish anything. She couldn’t sit still and she didn’t particularly like the idea of leaving Grandfather in his bedroom overnight, now that she knew where the crypt was. They’d have to arrange for the proper rites when they reached the city, but now she knew where to put the body, at least. Well, then, we’d better get started. First, I suppose we should get Grandfather into the crypt. You take the key and the map and go open the door. I’ll carry him down.

~~~

When Valeriah carried her Grandfather’s shrunken body through the crypt door, she saw the empty bier straight ahead of her at the back of the tomb. She placed him on the cold, white stone and arranged his body so that he appeared to be asleep, hands on his chest. She patted the cold hands once before she looked around her.

Grandmother Elsibel’s bier was right next to Grandfather’s. Elsibel, who had died before Valeriah was even born, appeared to be in a natural sleep. There was probably some spell on the crypt to prevent decay. That was a strangely comforting thought. Looking at Elsibel, Valeriah realized how much Cristel looked their grandmother.

Cristel was on the right side of the crypt, staring down at one of the bodies. From where she stood, Valeriah couldn’t see the body Cristel was looking at clearly, but she assumed it must be one of her parents. She turned away, to give Cristel a moment of privacy. Her eyes fell on the four bodies on the left side of the crypt. She crossed to them in three quick strides.

None of them looked like they were asleep. The death wounds were too obvious and so were the signs of feeding by forest scavengers before their bodies had been found.

Her father. Daddy. Tall and blond, still in his prime. The hole in his chest where the sword had passed through—all the way through. She remembered seeing the point come out of his back, the blood spurting around it. Mama. Her throat slashed so deeply that the bone of her spine showed through. Conall. Still ten years old. Ten years old forever. Ruddy like their mother, but already lengthening to be as tall as Daddy someday. That would never happen now. Nothing could hide the slash that had nearly cut him in two. Martin. Forever eight years old. The only one with Father’s coloring. And one side of his skull sickeningly caved in by a blow from something heavy. A club? Valeriah didn’t know. She hadn’t seen Martin fall.

They shouldn’t be in this crypt. They should all of them be alive and still with her. Her brothers grown tall and strong like Daddy. Maybe others, younger than her. That’s the way it should have been. She should not be alone.

Pain wrenched through Valeriah as if it had happened yesterday, not twenty years ago. All of them cut down in one moment. Her vision darkened. She clamped her mouth shut against the long, mournful howl that wanted to escape. Even now, at the new moon, when her wild blood should be quiet, she felt the blood rage boiling up in her. And Grandfather wanted her not to seek revenge? If the Goddess herself were responsible, Valeriah would avenge them.

The scuff of a shoe on stone and a choked-off sob brought her back to the moment. Valeriah raised her head, wiping away tears she hadn’t even realized she was crying. She crossed over to Cristel and stopped, one stride away, looking at what had to be Cristel’s parents. The woman was almost like a waxen image of Cristel—except for the gash across her neck. She’d been killed exactly like Valeriah’s mother. The man, presumably Cristel’s father, looked like he had been hacked with an axe.

Yours, too? Valeriah asked softly.

What?

Your parents were murdered, too. I didn’t remember that. But, then, I had my own nightmares back then. I wasn’t very interested in other people’s pain.

I didn’t remember, either. I’m not sure I ever knew. I was so young. I only remember Grandfather crying and saying that he would take care of me, now. I’m not sure he ever told me how they died. Or maybe he did and I just didn’t understand.

You weren’t there? When it happened?

Cristel shook her head. Then she lifted her head to look at Valeriah. Were you?

Oh, yes. I was the baby, only five and small for my age. I was holding Daddy’s hand when we were attacked. Mama and Conall fell while I watched. Daddy pushed me behind him. I saw the sword point come through his back and disappear again as he collapsed. He fell on me and the men who killed them didn’t find me. She shuddered at the memory. She would say no more about that. Not here. Not now.

Valeriah took hold of Cristel’s arm. Let’s get out of here.

~~~

I need a drink. Did Grandfather keep any spirits? Valeriah said when they were seated on either side of the big kitchen table.

Yes. In the second cabinet, at the top, Cristel answered without inflection.

Valeriah got up to get two glasses. Then she went to the indicated cabinet.

White Horse imported from the other side. Excellent.

She poured two fingers in each glass and pushed one over to Cristel as she sat down again.

Cristel pushed it away, wrinkling her nose. I don’t drink.

Today, you do. Trust me. Sip it.

Cristel sipped delicately and almost choked on the scotch. Valeriah added an equal amount of water to Cristel’s glass.

Try again.

What do we do now? Cristel asked.

We do what Grandfather said. We leave for the Council in the morning. Knowing what’s under this tower, I’m not inclined to stay any longer, anyway.

No, Cristel said. Me either. After a moment, she added, Vallie . . . would it sound strange to ask you to sleep in my room tonight?

Valeriah gave a single bark of humorless laughter. Not after what I just saw.

~~~

Cristel was asleep, snoring in a gentle purr. The second glass of scotch had hit her so hard Valeriah hadn’t been sure she could get her up the tower stairs safely. The alcohol didn’t affect Valeriah nearly as much. Tonight, she wished it did. She sat quietly in the window seat overlooking the silent orchard below. Without anything else to occupy her, her mind kept turning back to Grandfather’s death and to her memory of the murders of her parents and brothers. Not the sort of thoughts she wanted to dwell on just before sleep. She turned her mind instead to the puzzle of those murders, the riddle she had been trying to work out since before she came of age.

Dragons, Grandfather had said. Dragons! Did Grandfather mean to tell her that dragons could make and close portals? Dragons were the strongest, most magical creatures of Chimeria. What could they possibly gain from killing a werewolf and her mate? And why would they dirty their own hands with it if they did? Her father might have grown in time to become a great wizard like Grandfather, but he certainly wasn’t that when he was murdered.

Grandfather’s library might hold some answers now that she had a better idea what she was searching for. But, then, what could she do about it? Grandfather was right about one thing. As good as she was she wasn’t ready to take on a dragon. She’d need help—and lots of it—before she could even consider it. That kind of help wouldn’t be easy to find. Maybe Cristel . . .  No, Cristel was a pacifist. She never fought over anything. Ever. She wouldn’t be much help, except maybe with the research.

Or was it all misdirection? Was Grandfather merely trying to keep her from seeking revenge by making the task seem bigger than any sane person would attempt? She wouldn’t put it past the old fox, especially if he thought it was for her own good. Well, some time in Grandfather’s library would tell her that, too, but that would have to wait until after their return. Tomorrow, they would set out for the capital and the Council of Magical Races. She’d better try to get some sleep.

Chapter 4: Inheritance

The oranges and reds of the sunset were already giving way to purple when Valeriah led Cristel up to the front of the Circled Dragon Inn. The owner was a retired member of the Watch, so his establishment was the one most favored by the Watch when they were in the city on business. It was clean, reasonable, and, as a consequence of the Watch’s patronage, mostly quiet and orderly.

Valeriah checked the common rooms as the innkeeper led them upstairs. There didn’t seem to be any other members of the Watch tonight.

Their rooms consisted of a smallish sitting room, with a table and three chairs—one slightly unbalanced—and two curtained alcoves, just large enough for the bed built into each. One small window between the alcoves would let in morning light, but it was dark, now.

Cristel sat down heavily in one of the chairs, wincing. Valeriah shook her head. How could Cristel be tired or saddle sore after that leisurely ride? She’d had to rein the bay back repeatedly to keep from outpacing Grandfather’s fat, old gelding. Before the innkeeper bowed himself out, she asked to have dinner and breakfast in the morning sent up. No sense dragging Cristel back downstairs.

~~~

In the morning, they went first to the Council chambers to hand over their grandfather’s will to be confirmed by the Council. From there, they went straight to the temple to arrange for the final rites for their grandfather.

Valeriah sat quietly in the Goddess’ temple as the priestesses conducted the rites for the dead. The prayers were chanted more than sung, asking the Goddess to take the lost one home. Cristel sobbed quietly beside her. Valeriah felt numb, like it was all happening at a great distance. Wrung out, like she’d used up all the emotion at her disposal the day before. Maybe it was because they’d buried him so quickly and then left in a hurry, but it didn’t feel real to her.

The Council had still not reached an agreement when they returned. It was all Valeriah could do to hold her hands still in her lap and keep from springing up to pace. She hated waiting at the best of times, but she detested being at the mercy of the members of the Council even more. Working for them was one thing. Then at least she knew her skills were valued, appreciated. Her mixed heritage was an asset, then.

What’s taking them so long? Cristel asked.

Valeriah shrugged. They’re probably arguing about me, because I’m half werewolf.

Don’t be nervous, Vallie, Cristel said. It doesn’t matter what the Council decides. Grandfather left everything to both of us. I intend to hold to that.

Valeriah turned to look at her. You don’t understand, Cristel—

Just then, the inner door opened and both women stood. Cristel smoothed her skirts. Valeriah shook out the hem of the gown she’d borrowed from Cristel for this occasion. The two women walked side by side into the Council chamber.

The only light in the large, windowless room was cast by several magical lamps that burned without smoke. There was one huge table with seats of many sizes and designs, most of them empty. All of the races were required to use human form for the Council, whatever their natural shape might be, but there were usually some clues to their real identity.

Valeriah quickly scanned the table. Less than half the seats were occupied. This was not a meeting of the full Council.

She recognized the unicorn representative by his coloring—whitish silver hair, skin even paler than Cristel’s, and ice-blue eyes—and his long, horsy face. His coloring reminded her strongly of Grandmother Elsibel. His eyes turned greedy and almost glowed as he looked at the two women, especially Cristel. Figured. Trust a unicorn to spot a virgin. And, of course, a virgin unicorn would be even more interesting to him.

The gryphon councilor was instantly identifiable by her sharp, beaked nose and her mane of downy, almost feathery, golden hair. Almost directly across from her sat the representative of the merfolk, a merman with a crest of slick, scaly blue-green hair like a Mohawk. Neither of them looked up as Valeriah and Cristel entered; their eyes were locked on each other. The merman smiled, revealing sharp, triangular teeth in an expression that still managed to be tender.

A creature of the sky and a creature of the water. Valeriah felt a pang of sympathy for their potential children. It was possible, as long as they kept their human forms, and, given the mix, they’d have to. She knew about balancing the contradictory sides of her nature. It was seldom fun. Some days it was just plain hard work.

None of those councilors were likely to be on her side. There was a long history of distrust between the unicorns and the werewolves. Valeriah didn’t know either the gryphon or the merman, but neither race was particularly friendly to the werewolves. Her best hope was with the councilors who knew her personally, knew that she didn’t surrender to the moon-madness every month.

Valeriah knew many of the wizard Council members from having worked as a bodyguard for them. She risked a small smile and a nod at Councilors Zobran and Tirella. There was, of course, no representative for the werewolves, one of the most universally despised of the magical races of Chimeria.

The end of the table nearest the doors, where Valeriah and Cristel stood in full view of all the councilors, had no chairs. Across the table, they faced the five heavily-carved dragon chairs, one for every color of dragon. Valeriah studied those chairs as if they could tell her what she needed to know about dragons. They were thrones, really, with huge wings carved in the likenesses of dragon wings extending to each side. The largest was the gold chair in the center. Then black on the right and bronze on the left. The smallest of the dragon chairs—still larger than any other chair at the Council table—were on the outside, red and white.

Those chairs were reputedly spelled so that only dragons could sit there. Legend said that the huge winged chairs would enfold and eat any non-dragon who dared try. The dragon chairs stood empty as always. Valeriah was glad of that. She hadn’t had time to figure out what Grandfather had meant with his last word. She wouldn’t be ready to meet with any dragons until she did.

At a sharp rap on the table, Valeriah brought her attention back to the proceedings. Zobran spoke for the Council. That might be a good sign. She had most recently worked for him and he often requested her by name.

We are all, of course, very saddened to hear of the loss of our esteemed colleague, Azander. Please accept the sympathies of the Council, Zobran said in his most formal tones.

Valeriah and Cristel inclined their heads politely.

As to the inheritance, we are unanimous. Cristel, of course, is judged fit to be Azander’s heir. Valeriah, I am sorry to say, is not. We cannot have items of such magical power falling into the hands of werewolves.

Valeriah felt as if she had been kicked in the gut. She had expected some of the councilors to be against her, the unicorns and those that didn’t know her personally, certainly. But not the ones she’d worked for, fought for, protected. She unconsciously stiffened her back and stood straighter. She would not let them see weakness.

Consequently, the tower and its contents are confirmed to Cristel, saving only the non-magical part of the bequest. We can see no reason that Valeriah should not share in that portion of her inheritance. Indeed, since she is denied the rest, the Council sets her share of the treasure at three-quarters, in recompense for what is denied.

And then they were going to throw a bit of money at her to buy her off. Certainly Zobran and Tirella should know her better than that. A crimson flush of fury washed over her, sweeping away her earlier numbness. At the same moment, wolf instincts kicked in. She couldn’t let them see her rage. It was what they were expecting, what they obviously thought of her and it would be showing weakness. All her instincts said that survival depended on hiding weaknesses. So she held herself rigid and bit back what she wanted to say to them. Instead, the words of her grandfather’s letter came back to her. Insist upon your rights.

She drew a deep breath and concentrated on her diaphragm to steady her voice. I protest this decision and demand a vote of the full Council.

Valeriah waited for Cristel to say something. But Cristel remained silent, only shifting uncomfortably.

So, even her cousin had abandoned her. On one level, intellectually, Valeriah knew that Cristel wasn’t a fighter and she shouldn’t expect it of her. But on a deeper, instinctive level, that made no difference at all. It was a betrayal. The councilors were other, outside, and so presumed to be hostile. But Cristel was pack, all the pack Valeriah had left. And pack defended each other. Always.

Valeriah’s fury turned to ice. So be it. She had been on her own for eight years. She knew how to handle herself. Valeriah doubted Cristel would do as well by herself.

Tirella looked sympathetic. The decision will be the same, Valeriah.

It is my right. I demand the full Council.

Very well, Zobran said with resignation. It will take some time to assemble all of us. Messengers will have to be sent to the Dragon Cliffs to request their presence. They won’t come of course. Not for an issue as trivial as this. But for a full Council to be called, they must be invited. We will meet again in . . . six months. In the meantime . . .

She couldn’t stay here a moment longer. Not and keep any sort of control. She needed to release some of the anger boiling in her gut before she did something regrettable. There was a difference between rage and scorn. Rage was weakness, loss of control, but contempt came from strength. That, at least, she could vent freely. In the meantime, you can take this back, Valeriah pulled off the dragon cloak pin and tossed it onto the table. I obviously can’t be trusted to fight for you or protect you either.

She turned on her heel and stalked out of the Council chamber.

Now, don’t take it that way, Zobran called after her.

Valeriah didn’t pause or turn, only giving her long red hair a flip of disdain. She didn’t slow down when she heard Cristel’s light footfalls running after her.

Chapter 5: Assassin

Valeriah wrenched her arm free of Cristel’s hand. Her rage was still searing. She couldn’t show it before the Council, but there was no reason to hold back from Cristel. What she couldn’t show Cristel was the hurt, the sense of loss, of aloneness, of betrayal. Cristel was pack and she hadn’t stood up for Valeriah. She deserved the anger. Don’t. Don’t even talk to me.

What did I do? I didn’t want things to turn out like this.

"You didn’t do much to prevent it. You could have stood up for me. You could have argued against their decision. You could have said something. If you had joined my protest, it would have been very hard for the Council to overlook the wishes of both heirs."

Cristel ducked her head, looking at her feet. The Council would never have listened to me.

So? You still could have tried. I would have fought for your rights, if our positions were reversed. It’s what Grandfather asked you to do.

Cristel looked up and started to reach for Valeriah’s arm again. But I told you, it doesn’t matter—

It doesn’t matter that they as much as said I’m beneath them? Well, thank you for your support. Valeriah put as much scorn into her words as she could.

Cristel’s face collapsed into lines of sorrow and remorse. I’m sorry.

Valeriah almost wavered, but the anger and hurt were still too strong. She needed to leave now, before this went any further.