Sons of Destiny Prequel Series 003 - The Shifter (15 page)

She ducked into the herb-room. Traver glanced at Solyn, visibly puzzled. She shrugged in return, muttering under her breath. "Don't look at me. The cheeses are still in the draining cloths, which are in the kitchen, not the herb-room. I don't know what she's doing in there."

"What I'm doing," her mother's voice drifted through the herb-room door, "is what I should've done when the two of you finally made up your minds about each other. Ah, there they are..." A cupboard door snapped shut. Moments later, Reina emerged, two braided leather thongs in her hands. Strung onto the braids were rune-carved beads.

Belatedly, Solyn realized what they were. Face flushing red, she protested,
"—Mother!"

"If you're old enough to be betrothed, then you're old enough to think about twining all the way with each other." Pushing one into her daughter's hands, she held out the other to Traver. "You
will
start wearing these contraceptive amulets, both of you. And you in specific, young man,
will not
get my daughter pregnant outside of marriage. Is that clear?"

Traver blushed as well. Taking the anklet from her, he mumbled a polite, if awkward, "Yes, Healer Reina. No, Healer, Reina. Um... thank you?"

"Mother!" Solyn huffed. "As if I'd... ugh! We're going to be wrapping and waxing
cheese
, Mother, not making babies!" Clutching the amulet, she grabbed Traver by the wrist and hauled him out of the healing room. "Come on—I've parked a barrow cart by the kitchen door. We made sixty pounds of cheese this morning. Or at least it feels like it," she muttered, hauling him through the front entry and back to the kitchen. "Everyone contributed buckets of milk last night. You start loading them into the cart, and I'll grab the cloths Aunt Hylin boiled for us yesterday."

It didn't take long for them to load up the narrow, two-wheeled cart, nor did it take much effort for Traver to heft the handles up and start guiding it around the house and down the sloping, shallow-stepped paths. The hard part was making sure the cart didn't get away from either of them; the return trip, burdened with fewer cheeses, would be much easier to make.

"You'll have to direct me," he grunted, braking the cart by leaning back as it bumped and rattled down a set of uneven stone steps. "Some things are coming back, but my memory's still unreliable. Sometimes I recognize a location, and other times I'm all turned around. I'd rather just have you lead the way."

"Right." Since they weren't alone—it seemed like they were never alone—Solyn bit back what she wanted to say. Instead, she gestured at the trees lining the bottom of the valley. "It's a lengthy walk. We're going up-valley this time, to a cave near Tunric's mine shafts. I brought some bread and water and a few plums to eat. You're pretty much stuck with me for the rest of the afternoon; less time, if you can at least remember how to press and wrap cheese."

Personally, she doubted it. The real Traver knew how; they'd been making cheese runs together for ages. His mother, Tenaria, was the woman who specialized in goat's milk cheese, just as her own mother was known for ones made from cow's milk. An impostor might know a bit about farming or pick it up easily, but cheese-making was an art; any lack of knowledge would show.

"Ah," he murmured. "No wonder your mother thought we, um... needed..." He trailed off on a cough.

That, too, was an oddity.
Most of the ones I think are shapeshifted men, they're awfully randy,
Solyn thought, puzzling over the differences.
They'll leer, they'll smirk, and like Tarquin, they'll even try to steal a kiss. But this one—if he is one—is, well, uncomfortable about it. Except he really knows how to kiss, and something like that surely takes practice
?

Thoughts circling uselessly, Solyn gave up on them. Nothing could be settled until they had privacy, and they wouldn't have privacy until they reached the cheese caves. She searched for an innocuous topic. "So... any thoughts about the Early Harvest Faire?"

"I... think I'd enjoy it?" he offered. She couldn't tell if he shrugged, since his shoulders were straining to brake the cart over a steep spot. He continued after the barrow reached a more level section. "I really can't remember my last Faire. Most of what I remember is working hard—which doesn't seem fair, you know."

"Oh?" she asked, wondering if she should offer to take the cart on some of the more level stretches. "Why not?"

"Why should I remember the boring bits after being knocked silly, when the exciting and fun and lovely bits are so much more interesting?" Traver asked her, flashing her a grin.

Rolling her eyes, she didn't dignify that with a response.

Finally, her ring twisted on her finger. She almost missed it, washing the whey from her hands in the basin provided near the cave entrance. Thankfully, her father had crafted it with a set of rounded notches along each edge. The bumping sensation was distinct.
About time. Who in the Gods' names could've been so close as to have heard us, yet not be noticed by either of us?

Drying her hands on the scrap of linen hanging from the iron washstand, she hurried back into the lantern-lit depths of the cave. Once upon a time, the place had been a mining tunnel, but the vein of silver had long since run out. Now it was used to store cheeses and other goods which needed to be kept cool.

As she hurried deeper into the mine, the tangy, pungent smell of greenvein mold and wooden racks mingled with the scents of salt-rubbed cheeses in various stages of aging. The place reeked of age-old family secrets to her senses, but at least it was a familiar smell. The way her best friend was acting, on the other hand, stunk of much fresher ones. "... Traver? Where are you? Traver?"

He had washed his hands before her. Solyn knew that much. He had moved back, and she had stepped up to the basin to wash her own, and... and he had vanished. The man walked too softly; that was another point against him being the real Traver. Making her way back to the front of the cave, she called his name again as she moved.

"I'm here. I stepped out to use the bushes." His voice came from ahead, out by the entrance. She hurried back in time to see him rinsing his hands at the basin. He gave her a lopsided smile. "So. The cheeses are in the presses, having the last of the whey squeezed out overnight. Which means we come back tomorrow for salting and wrapping, right?"

"Right," she agreed. Then planted her hands on her hips. "But we're not leaving just yet. I want to have a few words with you, first."

He glanced at the cave mouth, then lifted a damp finger to his lips. Wiping off his fingers, he shooed her deeper into the cave. "Not up front. I'm tired of people constantly hovering near—within eyesight, if not always earshot."

She blushed at the implications. "Traver Ys Ten, if you think for one moment I brought you back here for
twining
... Well, you're
obviously
not acting like yourself."

He flashed her a grin, tucking her behind a row of shelves. "Maybe I'm just looking at you with fresh eyes."

That made her roll her eyes. "Ugh. Just stop it, please? I
know
we're finally alone. You don't have to act around me... because I
know
you're not the real Traver Ys Ten. If you were... I think the sunsets are particularly orange at this time of year. What do you think?"

He gave her a blank look.

Her hopes fell. "You're
not
the real Traver. And that means I'm going to have to do something about you. Don't even bother lying."

Kenyen lost his smile. He glanced nervously at the passage back to the cave entrance. "Hush..."

Seeing his worried look, she held up her hand, displaying the silver ring on her middle finger. "What, the real one didn't tell you about this? Or our code phrases?"

Looking back at her, he blinked. "I... don't remember?"

Solyn poked him in the chest, emphasizing each point. "You. Are not. Traver. You are too confident. Too self-assured. Too graceful. Too...
manly
. Too strong—and too
tall
... I think." She frowned a little in thought, then shook it off. "But that doesn't matter. I'd swear you were one of
them
, but you're also... too
nice
!"

His brows lifted. "Well, as far as accusations go, that last one isn't too bad."

Again, she rolled her eyes. "Traver! Or whoever you are. Ugh... sometimes I think you
are
still him, and others... Well, there's only one way to be
sure
-sure."

She reached for his forehead. Kenyen flinched. He hadn't formed the skin-flap to hide his fake Banished brand because he hadn't needed to form it, save for at the bonfire gathering last night. His hair was pulled back in a braid, to hide the fact that he couldn't quite get the curl right, but she wasn't after his hairline. She was after one of the short, wispy hairs that had escaped his plait.

"
Ow!
Why'd you pull that out?" he demanded as quietly as he could. Kenyen scowled at her, rubbing the stinging spot just above his left temple. "What was that for?"

"Kuzon-ghiff!"

The odd words triggered a sneeze from him. It also writhed the finger-length wisp of hair in her grip, twisting it into a loose knot. Kenyen frowned, confused. "What...?"

"It's the one truth-sensing spell I know. If it tightens the knot," she explained to him, her chin lifted belligerently, "then you're telling the truth. But if it
loosens
—and especially if it straightens—then I'll know it's a lie. And I want the
truth
from you. Who are you, really?"

He studied her for a long moment, then looked back at the entrance. "That's a dangerous question, if we're not truly alone."

"You
will
answer me," she ordered. "I'll not let you leave until you do. Don't think you can get past me."

"Shhh." Eyeing her slender frame, Kenyen didn't believe she could stop him. Not a warband-trained shifter. But he didn't contradict her statement. Lowering his voice, Kenyen murmured. "I will answer,
if
you speak softly." Waiting for her to nod, Kenyen sighed when she remained stubbornly silent. "Fine. Please, just
listen
to me. All the way through, before you go running and screaming."

Solyn watched the loosely knotted hair. It squeezed tighter, sliding on the side of the truth. She nodded. "Alright. Speak."

"You're right, I'm not the real Traver Ys Ten. My name is Kenyen Sin Siin, and I am from the Shifting Plains—but
not
as a Banished criminal," he stated quickly, cutting her off before she could do more than open her mouth. "I actually came here with a group of fellow Shifterai to look for a group of Banished criminals, who we feared were committing further crimes along our borders."

"We split up to cover more ground after we found some disturbing evidence of their activities in these mountains, and that's when I ran across the real Traver on the way here," Kenyen confessed. Her gaze darted between his face and the knotted strand of his hair, which had tightened. "I heard his story about shapeshifters taking over the faces of local townsfolk, and it matched with some of the things we'd found... but before I could help him get back to the others, he was ambushed by the man you call Zellan Fin Don."

Solyn sucked in a breath, startled by that news. The hair was still closely knotted. Licking her lips, she asked. "Is he... is he all right?"

"For now. I saw him last night," Kenyen added. "He's being fed and watered, but they're holding him captive somewhere—I couldn't tell you what roads to take from here, since I don't know the area well enough, but it's in the root cellar of some isolated shepherd's hut. They've told him that once they get whatever it is they want, he'll be let go... but I'm pretty sure they're lying."

That made her wince. "Mother..." she breathed. Solyn checked the wisp of dark brown hair in her grip—still knotted tightly—and met his confused look. "They're after something my mother made. You don't need to know what."

Kenyen shook his head. "I think I do. Because they want me—in the guise of Traver—to worm my way into your family's graces and get it. They won't tell me what it is just yet, since they don't quite trust me enough. Probably to make sure I won't run off with whatever it is myself. But whatever it is, they are willing to kill for it... and that means the real Traver's life is on the line."

She mulled that over, nibbling on her bottom lip. Occasionally Solyn glanced at the hair. Now that he wasn't speaking, it slowly relaxed into its neutral, half-knotted state. "I'm not sure..."

Not sure what she was thinking, Kenyen offered, "Maybe if I knew what to
avoid
telling them, I wouldn't accidentally let the wrong thing slip. Have you considered that? My goals right now are to get Traver, you, your family, and myself out of this mess alive, then to get word to the other Shifterai about what's been going on in these mountains, and finally to find
some
way of stopping these shifters, of bringing them to justice."