A Midwinter Fantasy - Leanna Renee Hieber [46]
It also made traveling a pain, though Mace was doing so in the most efficient way possible, other than flight. He trotted along the side of the sylph-made road in the shape of a large, darkly mottled mastiff. It wasn’t a shape he was used to, but it was no different than any other form he could take, and certainly it was easier than having to bring horses, which he’d need to take care of.
At least Ruffles was capable of taking care of herself, since the dog was trained to hunt. She was a shepherd/mastiff mix from the Valley’s anchor pool—animals specifically raised and trained to be bonded to sylphs who didn’t want or couldn’t handle human masters. Though they usually preferred it, sylphs didn’t need to be linked to a human in order to stay in this world. Nor did they need one to feed from, as they’d previously believed. Any large-enough animal could provide a sylph with energy and a hold on the world, and when the master was an animal, there was no chance of the sylph receiving abusive orders. For some emotionally wounded sylphs, that was a good thing, though Mace knew of one earth sylph with a dog who was very good at getting across the concept of “Take me for a walk,” and they all did “Feed me now” quite effectively. Anchor animals were usually fat.
Most sylphs didn’t want to have to rely on the anchor dogs, though. Their love was unconditional and simple, but for many, it was too simple. They could give energy and companionship, but no sylph/dog bond could ever come close to the soul tie they all craved from a human master.
In this case, Ruffles was a better choice to take along than an eighty-two-year-old woman who needed a cane. Mace didn’t know how long he would be gone, and he did need to restore his energy levels on a regular basis. That was Ruffles’s job. She was a year old, ninety pounds, and furry, her tongue hanging out and slobbery as she ran at his side. She was meticulously well trained, used to sylphs and their ability to change shape, and even in dog shape, Mace was impressed at how well she obeyed his nonverbal orders. She paced him easily, having been kept fit by her trainers. Mace had never bothered to pay attention to any of the anchor dogs in the Valley before, but with sylph instinct, now that Ruffles was his master, he wanted to protect her. Her emotions were uncomplicated, and she was ready to follow him anywhere, so long as he wanted her.
Given he was the one used to following, it was really rather nice.
The two trotted down the road, wending their way through the spread-out ranks of a mail convoy, the only sort of transport that traveled at this time of year. Mace suspected these men were only doing so now in order to get to their homes in time for the Winter Festival. In the Valley and Shale Plains they were safe from attack, but outside sylph-patrolled lands the roads weren’t always guarded. The men rode with swords at their belts and crossbows on their backs.
From the look of it, Crem was right: Jayden had left the Valley by working for an earlier convoy. This one probably wouldn’t have needed the extra manpower. There were only a half dozen riders and a short string of pack mules loaded high with mail. This was likely the last convoy to leave until spring, and the men peered down at the passing dogs in puzzlement. Mace ignored them, but Ruffles slowed, wagging her tail up