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She wondered if he had scales all over his body. "Yes?" he asked.
She realized she'd been staring, and flushed. "I just wondered& aren't you warm in
those clothes? I mean, the hood and scarf and all."
"I prefer to keep myself covered," he said, and turned away. "It keeps people from
staring."
"Well, I'm the only one around now. If I promise not to stare, will you take it off?"
His shoulders tensed beneath the cloak. He didn't look at her, but when he spoke, his
voice was very soft, very cold. "You want to see the freak show?"
"It's not like that!"
He turned and faced her. "Then what is it like?"
Her tongue crept out, moistening her dry lips. His tone was calm and controlled, but
she could feel his anger boiling just beneath the surface. His golden eyes had darkened a
shade. "When I'm talking to someone, I like to see his face. That's all. If we're going to be
traveling together, I may as well see what you look like. I mean, you're not really going
to leave that hood and scarf on the whole time, are you?"
Zander hesitated. Then he reached up and pulled down his hood, revealing a head of
thick, short hair. It shone a pearly gray-blue, a few shades lighter than his skin. His ears
were pointed and leaf-shaped, like an elf's, but bigger. He pulled down the scarf,
exposing the rest of his face. Tiny, interlocking blue scales covered his skin, but
otherwise his features were human, his nose strong and straight, his mouth full and firm.
The lips were a deeper shade of blue, almost indigo, the color of a ripe plum.
His yellow eyes glared at her, as if daring her to gasp in horror and fling up her
hands, or run away screaming.
"There," she said, smiling. "Isn't that better? It must get pretty stuffy under that
scarf."
"I suppose so." He frowned and averted his eyes, but not before she caught the
puzzled look in them. "We'd better keep moving." He turned and strode forward.
She followed. "How many days do you think it'll take us to reach the mountains?"
"If we keep up a steady pace, five days. Realistically, it'll probably take us six or
seven."
She winced. She'd have to ration her food very carefully& and she'd only brought
one change of clothes, which meant she'd probably smell like a barn after a day or two.
Nothing to be done, she thought. She sighed, adjusted the straps of her pack, and kept
walking.
The path had vanished entirely, swallowed by weeds and grass. The forest looked the
same in every direction. She couldn't even see the sun through the dense canopy, so there
was no way to orient herself, no way to tell east from west, north from south. But Zander
seemed to know where he was going.
It occurred to her that she was completely at his mercy. Of course, if he'd wanted to
hurt her, he could have done it by now. Still, she was in the middle of the woods, alone
with a man she'd just met the other night a man big enough to overpower her easily, if
he so chose. She'd put her life in his hands. Her hand drifted to the stud in her ear, the
charm Julie had given her to protect her from pregnancy and diseases, and suddenly she
was glad she'd worn it.
She stepped over a bush. Thorns scraped her ankle, and she winced. Amazing, how
his cloak never seemed to snag on branches, yet she was already covered in scratches and
had a rip in her sleeve. "This forest must hate me." She picked a leaf out of her hair. "I
swear, these trees are out to get "
"Shhh." He froze.
"Zander?"
He pointed.
She looked up. A small gasp leapt from her throat.
A spotted tree cat crouched on a low bough of a nearby oak. Its gray and gold
dappled fur nearly blended in with the leaf-shadows. Brilliant green eyes stared down at
them.
"Oh," she breathed, caught between admiration and fear. The cat was almost eight
feet long from nose to tail-tip. Powerful muscles shifted beneath its short, glossy coat as
it crawled along the bough, long, black claws gripping into the bark. Its striped tail
flicked back and forth.
"Don't move," whispered Zander. He gripped his sword-hilt and slid the first inch of
blade from its sheath.
Half-lidded eyes stared down at them. Then the cat turned its gaze away, as if losing
interest, and climbed higher into the tree. Within seconds, its long, sleek body had
vanished into the leafy canopy.
Wendy let out a breath. She hadn't even realized she'd been holding it.
Zander stared into the treetops. "Walk away, very slowly," he murmured. With one
hand still on his sword-hilt, he began to walk.
She followed, craning her head back to peer into the treetop, but the cat was nowhere
in sight. "I've never seen a wild tree cat before. Are they dangerous?"
"They can be. Quick movements or loud noises can provoke them. The most
important thing to remember is, if you see one, don't run. They'll give chase."
She gulped.
For the next half-hour, she jumped at every flicker of movement and rustle in the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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