Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...

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Withone person seeing that I'm not disturbed?"
"Sure, yes,kras kreedo." He called up one of the others, a Brahvnikian. More likely to understand a
Zak; this Lakan wasn't stupid as she'd thought from Shkai'ra's first words of him. "And you, Mad Cow…
you got reprieve. We get you truth-drugged, andthen chop up your fucking fat ass!"
Megan settled herself with her back against a tree, her wounded leg straight out along the ground in front
of her.A bit of a show … She drew a deep breath when there was only the one watcher sitting his horse.
In the orange-pink light of the setting sun she imagined a faint shimmer of light around herself, heard the
man gasp.Right . It flowed off her, over her head, formed itself into a neat-shimmer-like bird-shape that
hovered a moment, sharp pointed beak shape apparently casting about, then darted in the direction the
Ri had taken, and disappeared. The Brahvnikian pretended very hard not to see.
Another deep breath. Not too hard to do because it was faint. She sat absolutely still, breathing very
slow, eyes almost closed so she could still see through the lashes.Remember, when they call you,
you're exhausted .
She heard her Brahvnikian warn off the flankers, heard Bukangkt come back. The sun was almost
down, sending shadows looming along the ground in front of her when the Brahvnikian walked his horse
close, and called, "Whitlock." She didn't move. "Megan, calledWhitlock !" Ahead, she imagined the
bright spot of yellow light arrowing toward them, backed by the dark-edged fish-scale clouds. She
imagined it flashing like a bolt of lightning, vaguely bird shaped, to angle down and strike her in the top of
the head as if she were absorbing it. Then she stirred, made as if to get up, fell back, hands out to catch
herself. She shook her head and squinted up at the Brahvnikian, who clearly didn't want to come close
but felt he should help, hesitating on his horse. Behind him she could hear Bukangkt clearing his throat.
"Nothing," she said hoarsely. "I couldn't find her. Give me a minute, and a hand, and I'll ride back to
report."Witchcraft as a game of smoke and mirrors- He just said,"Shit. Shit shitshit ."
"You don't think… anything worse could have happened to her than just… going missing, do you?"
The girl poked up the campnre with a stick, making the flaming logs crash together, and a shower of
sparks fall upwards into the night sky.
"I hope not." Megan's shrug was slow, as if she were afraid she'd break. She pressed a hand to her
middle, though her stomach wasn't acting up. "I have to hope that they'll offer ransom, if that's what
happened. I just don't understand why I couldn't find her, even if I'm not blood-kin." Her folded hands
clutched her sleeves.I've always done my best to tell Sova the truth as I saw it. I hatehaving to lie to
her .
"I guess… we just have to wait, and hope she's all right. She… she wouldn't be easy for anyone to kill."
The girl filled her voice with forced hope. "That'sfor sure." She poked the fire again. "I sure wouldn't
want to be an Arkan or even ten Arkans, trying to killher ." The saber was leaning on the log, next to her;
she hadn't let it out of her sight. Now Megan saw her look at it, her eyes widen with a thought and then
go casual again, as she decided not to say it.I know what she's thinking. She's thinking, "Maybe
khyd-hirdsomehow knew . …"