A Midwinter Fantasy - Leanna Renee Hieber [47]
Mace swung his big head around. “Leave my dog alone,” he growled.
The man jumped, the others gaping with their jaws open. Ruffles gave them all a very doggy grin, and she broke into a loose run, easily keeping up with Mace as he himself ran, intent upon leaving the irritating convoy behind.
At this time of year, traveling at a rate of thirty miles on a good day, the trip from Sylph Valley to Eferem’s capital took a week for a standard merchant caravan. For a couple of dogs the journey would be much shorter, not that Mace was expecting to have to go all that way. Not if he could possibly avoid it. Eferem at the best of times was a city he never wanted to see again. Eferem in the grip of the Winter Festival could only be a hundred times worse. Humans were far too invasive into personal space for his liking at this time of year.
At a battle sylph’s flying speed, the trip to Eferem’s border could be done in hours, but Mace didn’t have that option. For one, Ruffles wasn’t likely to understand being carried inside of him, unable to see, but feeling every twist and turn of the flight . . . The thought of what she might do while inside him was beyond disgusting. More importantly, the treaty between Eferem and the Valley forbade sylph battlers from passing over the border, save in defense of Eferem itself. Mace had considered that a human rule, not that he would have gone by the border without a very good reason, but the absoluteness of the requirement had been forced on him.
The rules had been given to him while they were at the Anchor Center, the attendant off picking Ruffles as a dog specifically trained to keep up with an active battler. The lazy beasts sprawled out in the front area of the center hadn’t appealed to Mace at all. They’d been mostly mutts, all of them looking at him as though they’d just love to have him jumping to bring them dog food for the rest of their lives. Mace understood the importance of the animals, but he didn’t want to cater to one.
“I suppose we’ll have to build a dog house for it after you get back,” Lily remarked, sitting in a chair beside the fireplace. She’d insisted upon coming and he’d carried her the entire way, cradling her inside the warmth of his natural form. She was a bit pale, but there was a flush of the anger he still felt inside her, along with the worry. Her concern about Jayden was driving her nearly to distraction.
“Yes,” he murmured, determined to tie the boy to the house when he brought him back.
Lily frowned down at a mutt sitting beside her and staring up at her, its tail thumping against the floor. “I don’t want this animal inside my house,” she decided. “Muddy things. I’d be cleaning up after it all the time.”
Mace hesitated. He had no tie to the animal, but soon enough he would, and deep inside, the thought of leaving it outside wasn’t a lot different from the thought of having to leave Lily outside.
Lily looked at him, picking up on the sudden emotion inside him, but before she could say anything more, the door opened and the queen walked in. Solie had always been a lovely girl, but she’d grown over the years into a beautiful, confident woman, and the battle sylph who followed behind her had paced the appearance of his own age to match hers. They looked as though they belonged together, and Mace could see the soul tie between the two. Their bond was much deeper than any Mace had any hope to experience, and he bowed to both of them in respect.
“My queen,” he said.
Solie smiled at him, while Heyou grinned. “Hi, Mace,” he teased. “Hear you lost somebody. You know, I don’t have to keep a twenty-four-hour guard on my kids.”
Mace straightened up, studiously ignoring him. Of course he didn’t. Of Solie’s children, both fathered with the help of two different human men, one was a quiet, contemplative boy, more interested in studying than going anywhere, and the other one was guarded twenty-four hours a day by a battler that never left her side. Seeing he was being